I'm not really a crappy blogger

I have this flower bed right in front of my porch. It's small, maybe a yard square, but it's important in my landscape because it breaks up a sea of concrete and is really the focal point of my entryway.

I like to put a colorful display of annuals in this space. Usually only one or two colors carefully placed  together for impact. I get a lot of compliments on this tiny bed, so I guess I'm doing the right thing. I don't like to put bulbs in the bed because I like to fill it with annuals as soon as the ground is ready. If I have spring bloomers in there, I have to wait for them to pass, and the annuals get a slower start.

But last fall I felt some change in the air. On a whim, I picked up a variety of bulbs at my local *name of a big store that has has low prices everyday and needs no more advertising*, dug criscrossy troughs in the bed, and randomly tossed the bulbs in them. Sorta lazy, sorta trusty, sorta let the bulbs fall where they may and enjoy them there.

Nothing orderly about that!

The first crocuses appeared a couple of months ago. Followed by a natural looking display of daffodils, and now these tulips have opened. If I think about it, there probably should have been more for impact. They are stunning in color, but have to be appreciated on a small scale because there are only a few of them. I see some other buds in there, ready to expose themselves in floral glory, but truthfully, I can't remember what they are. It's a surprise. And I planted it.

Kind of like my life. Everyday is a surprise. It's not that I am lazy, it's not that I don't have things planned--but I am opening  myself to the randmoness that life is tossing my way. I am appreciating the beauty in it. Trying to, anyway.

My life is nothing like it was a year ago, it even changes month to month. Some good, some bad. some ordinary, some surprising, all beautiful in some way. Sometimes I just have to tilt my head to the side, or narrow my focus to see that beauty.

I only put blogs on here that I love. I'm not writing about specific things, or for a specific audience--I just let them fall randomly. I hope that you appreciate them for what they are: a snapshop of that moment of my life.

WAHM SAHM Thank you M'am!

I read an article recently, it talked about SAHMs who make a leap to WAHMs. How this was a growing trend, how finding work at home can solve a lot of problems--someone is home when the kids get home, there is more income, mom has a flexible schedule, etc. The article also talked about how it CREATES some issues--mom's workspace, mom's worktime, mom not staring at the laundry when she should be working thinking, "when is the laundry fairy coming"?

Ok, I made up that last one. But I am making that leap. Now, never ever ever would I call myself trendy.I am the antithesis of trendy...the anit-trend. But this time, I am totally riding the trend. Kowabunga!

But it's hard, to be truthful. I'm not very good at dropping all my SAHM chores, all my SAHM responsibilities,  so I end up being really, really  Over Mom Guilted, and really, really overworked.  But hey, it's 2011-- overworked is the new 21.

WHAT?

See? Overworked. I'm mixing metaphors as I watch my 6 year old play wii in front of me, singing Millionaire. With the cuss words. It's Friday and my bathrooms aren't clean yet-- and my fridge died the other day and it still has quite a bit of rotting food in it. Maybe it didn't die-the fridge coroner has not been out yet to call time of death, the thing is still under warranty SINCE IT IS ONLY TWO MONTHS OLD, so maybe it's just in a coma. Anyway---let's just leave it like this: I am letting a few things slide.

Like this blog. Dang, I love this blog. So I'm not giving it up. NO FREAKING way ( huh, where do the kids get that language, I wonder?) But my posts are not as frequent as as they used to be..or will be again. I will be posting more. I need to give a voice to us WAHMs with a SAHM complex. We need to be heard! I need to be that voice and say things like:

ARRGGHHH!!!

I'M LATE!! GETINTHEVANNOWNOWNOW!!

WAHOOO, PAYCHECK... CRUD, BILLS!

HOW DID IT GET TO BE 9O'CLOCK AT NIGHT AND I"M STILL IN MY JAMMIES AND NOT IN A GOOD WAY!???!

and of course,

WHERE IS THE DAMN LAUNDRY FAIRY!!???

I'm putting the PRO in procrastinate.

Is procrastination an art or a science? Is it our way of percolating an idea, or have we trained ourselves to put all the TO DO's on the back burner in favor of the less productive To Not Do' s? Does writing about not writing make me a better writer?

I have no idea.

But my kids FINALLY left the house  a good 90 minutes ago. They have been here FOREVER...ok, they had a snowday on Friday (again) and now it is Monday and I spent a lot of time with them this weekend. But we all need a break from eachother. And I have some deadlines looming this week. I *can* work when they are home, it's just not always that great when I do. (See: Blog That Got Zero Comments)

So the sun is out, the house is empty and silent and I have a long list of things I wanted to accomplish today. Some are more pleasant tasks than others, and some- if I would just get going on them, I actually will enjoy a great deal.:

*Change all the sheets and wash them, fold them and put them away.

*Write a column about what Noah is learning in Kindergarten

* Continue to research the woman who Beckett and I will be profiling when we sit down in the not-so- soundproof-room-with-a-microphone on Friday. (by "research", I mean that today I have to finish watching a movie about this woman, and read some kiddie books,one grown-up book with really tiny font, and search for google images of her because I have only seen a couple repeated and surely, someone else has painted her portrait or something.)

*Wash the wood floors that got all crapped up this weekend.

*Call my mother and tell her that  the gift card she gave me to Amazon DID work, I had just used up more of my previous balance than I thought. Or rather, Bekah had used up more of my previous balance than I thought.

*Revise the 25 pages of my WIP that my critique partner had taken time from her own procras..er, busy schedule to make comments about last week...and I shoved them into a folder then where they still reside.

*Change a tampon

So you see, I have A LOT to do. Here is what I have done in the last, now 2 hours:

*Drank two cups of coffee (which is actually a decent pace, if I do say so myself)

*Clean out the spinach artichoke dip that splashed and crusted all over the microwave at lunch yesterday and someone (me) neglected to clean until today.

*Stripped the beds,and heap all the sheets in the hallway

*Washed, but not dried, one load of laundry.

*Updated twitter

*Whined to SEVERAL people on facebook about how much I have to do and how lovely and quiet it is here today

*Searched for my dvd of Pride and Prejudice because my friend Mari gushed about Colin Firth (I can't find it!! I'm FREAKING OUT HERE!)

*Read as many accounts of the Academy Awards as I could find.

Uh, yeah. That's it.

Oh, right. I did write this. Sure, technically it wasn't on my list, but it's an accomplishment and I am a modern parent, and don't modern parents thrive on celebrating any accomplishment?

But now- since I have added writing this to my already jam packed day- I can print out as an official to-do list. And link it to my mom so I don't have to call her (Not that I don't like talking to my mom, I do...really Mom..one of the highlights of my day!)


Wow, that list really is getting whittled down. I'm like a Super Do-er. I should go pro.

It's not that hard

When my children were small, they would stand next to me and look up.

" Mommy, you are so tall! Am I going to be as tall as you?"

I would smile the smile of someone who knows a secret, "Oh, yes, probably. It's not that hard."

From their three foot perch they would would stare at me and hug my legs.

" Oh Mommy! You're silly!"

No, I'm short. They just didn't know that. Checking in at a solid 5'2" (and why, yes, my eyes ARE blue!) I really never thought of my height much. Most people are taller than I am-- 3" or a foot, it's all the same. Taller. We get used to the angle that we are looking at things. It's, simply, the way we view the world. It's not different, it just is.

I never coveted height. Why would I? Sometimes I wear heels, but not to be taller, I like how they look. I don't dress to elongate my legs. Really? They are only 29", elongation would be a farce extraordinaire.

No, I never really wanted to be taller. I have step stool, and still have enough spring in my legs to hop up on a kitchen counter to get a bowl from the top cabinet. When I was dating height was never an issue, my husband is about 6', but I think of us as equals.

This is how I was made, and - as I tell my kids- God does not make mistakes.I like what He made. Low center of gravity, able to hide in a crowd of kids-- if anyone has a problem with my height, it's not me.

Sometimes taller people have looked down at me...hey, not  always in a totally negative way, I'm talking directionally. But sure, sometimes they would would look down at me and smile. Like I was some cute child playing dress up. I can assure you, I speak tall. No one of any substance would think I was a child for very long. I have to assume that they soon looked at me as I did at them: a person.

Yes, for most of my life I have not thought about my height much. Until a few months ago. When I realized that Luke was no longer looking up at me, he was looking straight across at me. And then, more recently, I looked at him like I look at most people: up.

My 12 year old is now taller than me.  But here is the weird thing, he has yet to say anything about it. Not one "neener" or a laugh. Even today, when I told him to go back-to-back with me he didn't say "Hey, Shortie",  or make a mini-golf joke. He just did it.

Did I really set an example for treating people? I don't know. Probably not. Most likely this is a parental respect issue. But I can tell you this: when I look up at my smiling faced son, I know that his getting taller than me wasn't hard for him. But for me? The mom who will forevermore have the 3 foot version of him in my memory, and knows that each inch he gains moves him closer to being grown and on his own-- it's very hard, indeed.

Here It Is! My Secret THING!

The History Chicks

"A link? That's it? A. Link. your big secret was a link?"

No, no...it's not just a link! It's a portal to the past! It's a way of connecting women who have come before us to our current lives! It's a way  for amazing you to hear me laugh at my own jokes, drink coffee with a really amazing woman and talk about other really amazing women in history! It's a way of traveling from this page, to the new website my friend Beckett and I launched as a companion to our podcast--The History Chicks.

"uh- history? Really? Isn't that kinda, dry?"

No, not the way we do it it isn't. It's conversational. And it's not just the past, it's the present..the future. Did you know that there are people who are really passionate about certain historical women? Just like you are passionate about cooking, or reading, or gardening, or knitting, or gnome collecting or whatever it is that gets you all tingly. Well, not tingly like THAT..but fired up, excited...ok, really? Come back from the gutter. We introduce you to those people. too.

Maybe I say a name..pick " Lizzy Borden", for instance. Most of you know one poem about her, maybe some random things you have picked up over the years that may, or may, not be true. In less than an hour Beckett and I will give you the facts about Lizzy, place her with other things that were happening in the world at the time she lived and did her, uh. thing. We will bust some myths, point out ways that Lizzie is still impacting our world. You think,"Wow, this Lizzy Borden was more than I thought" so you head over to our website ( THE LINK!) and see what Lizzy looked liked, see some other pictures, and yes...more LINKS to places all over the Internet that will tell you even more about her and her legacy.

Because we all have one, a legacy. Or we will after we are gone. Perhaps part of our legacy (THE LINK) can lead you to part of yours ( a rockin' axe collection, maybe). Or maybe you just are entertained by our storytelling and banter for an hour. That's good, too.

So it's not just a link. It's a portal to history--ours, yours, other women's--- and a portal to the future.

Here, I'll give it to you again. Click it!

THE HISTORY CHICKS

The Times They Are A -Changin'

I am not a musical person. I am fairly musically illiterate and must follow along with the stronger voices at church because I have no idea what all the symbols in the hymnal mean. I have never played an instrument, and my singing voice can only be admired for it's enthusiasm.

When I hear songs played, they may take me back to a time, a certain place in my personal history. But if you ask me a few moments later what song I just heard, I will struggle to tell you. Cyndi Lauper and the Clash remind me of college, but there are a lot more things that will ignite my memories than music will.

I suck at games where you have to guess the song from the lyrics. And if I have to figure out who sang the song, or the year, I'm even suckier.

Don't feel too badly for me, I believe that this non musicality aids in my earworm immunity. I never get songs stuck in my head and have been know to take great pleasure in putting them in the heads of others.

That is why it stuck me as really odd when I started humming Bob Dylan's The Times They Are A-Changin today. First off, because Bob doesn't write zippy, hummable show tunes. Also, I'm not a hummer. And ,as I just said, I don't associate music TO my life-- it's just kind of on in the background. This gives me more than enough reason to think that this song is my anthem.

The song, written and released while I was still a-changing as a baby, is about adapting. It's about seeing the need to change as the world changes. My world is changing, my kids are getting a bit older, crossing into new parenting territory for Brian and I. I am getting older, careening through menopause. The world, how we communicate, how we share, how we show we care for each other is changing, too.

I read a quote from Mr Dylan that just sealed the anthem deal for me. When asked about the implied ageism meaning of these lyrics, 
"Come mothers and fathers



Throughout the land


And don't criticize


What you can't understand


Your sons and your daughters


Are beyond your command


Your old road is


Rapidly agin'.


Please get out of the new one


If you can't lend your hand


For the times they are a-changin'"
 
 Bob Dylan said, "Those were the only words I could find to separate aliveness from deadness. It had nothing to do with age."

Damn right it doesn't!

The part I love so much is the imagery of "to separate aliveness from deadness". I want to feel alive. I don't want to feel like my life is ending just because my kids are growing, my body is changing and more candles than ever light up my birthday cake.

I want to feel excited about using the gifts that God has given me.

I want to explore this world that He has created and where all of us reside.

I WANT to be alive to change.

Right now my times are a-changin'. I am morphing from being a stay-at-home mom to being a work-at-home mom. My time, previously prioritized by childrens' needs is now organized by working projects. Mostly writing. You can still see weekly blogs on http://www.mom2momkc.com/ , and also a weekly column in The Kansas City Star (appears on Wednesdays at http://www.kansascity.com/ - just search for my name, Susan Vollenweider). I love this sahmiam blog, even if the title doesn't exactly fit- it's who I was when it began, remains the number one prioritity in my life, and therfore- it shall remain ever so.

And there is another huge, time filling and personally rewarding project that- sadly- I still can't share with you. But I will. VERY soon. I'm really excited about it, and- trust me- keeping it secret is driving me batty. It's this big chunk of my life that I am keeping from people who previously had open access. And I hate that. But it's necessary.

So, until next time when I promise to share-- go google The Times They Are A-Changin'. Marvel at how many covers have been made, AND find your own anthem. PLEASE comment on this blog if you read it and tell me what your anthem is. You don't need to tell me why, unless you would like to- I would love to hear about it!

2011:Revelations

I have this reoccuring feeling that the end of the world is right around the corner.

Wow, cheery way to start things off, Susan.

Let me backtrack. I am a Plan C person. Maybe a Plan M. Plan A just never happens to me. I'm ok with that, I've had a lot of experience. You have to start somewhere, right? That is the point of Plan A. The lofty, idealistic Plan A. Then I end up settling for a plan farther down the alphabet and making it work.

But so far this year, and I am tracking this back to just almost the beginning of 2011 (which, I realize was only 8 days ago) but things have been falling freakishly into place. Plan A's are working.

Some Plan As began last year, but they are playing out THIS year. Just as Plan A dictated. Some just pop up. For instance, yesterday I had gotten the dreaded call from the School Nurse. I was not in the middle of anything that couldn't wait, so I hopped into the car and picked him up right away. He had a low grade fever and was waiting to puke, but hadn't yet.

The car that I hopped into was not the child friendly minivan, it was Brian's baby. The car he always wanted but waited and put others things ahead of purchasing and finally got last year. I had Brian's car that day because I had washed and vacuumed it that morning. (I'm a nice wife like that). Now, Kid Logic dictates that Noah would hurl all over the interior of Brian's car. This is a well established fact, and I was prepared for it with a towel and aplastic bag.

But he didn't. We got home, into the house, out of his coat and winter gear, into the freshly cleaned bathroom and then he spewed right into the toilet. He yaaked once more that day, fell sound asleep, and today seems to be doing better. A perfect virus if there ever was one. Quick, neat, over in 12 hours and get back to regularly scheduled life.

THAT is how ALL things are happening. And, quite frankly, it's freaking me out.

Yes, wow, that does sound like me complaining that life is working out, doesn't it? I can't help it. I'm waiting for other shoes to drop. And while I am waiting, I have this other thought: this is my time to have things finally work out--just before the trumpets blow.

Happy and freaky all at once, right? Who knew that both of those emotions could live simultaneously in one head? And they can stay. I'm totally OK with that. Quite a revelation.